ONCE UPON AN ODD MORNING, THERE WAS THIS MODERN (?) CHALLENGE....

EDITION OF TUESDAY, JAN. 7-8, 2025 [PetPowellPress] Anybody reading this remember the "good ol' days" when you could call in sick and just take a day off to consider the fate of mankind, spaceflights and whether cable TV was worth the money? Yeah, I never did that, either. However. today....Well moving along.
Time out. I have to give Porche Noel a treat. She's more of a companion than she is a counselor. Moving back to the topic.
This wasn't one of those kind of days, i.e., "Phone in and escape." 
I'm all grown up now. I can't crawl out of a window and disappear across the high school campus to avoid a test -- Back to today: Clearly I'm not physically sick, so I thought I'd change the thrust of my call to the office.
I called in "disgusted." But, when the phone was answered, there I was on the other end of the line. I went ahead with my plan and said to myself, "Give me a few hours to get some things in order. I'll get back to the mission when I'm focused today."
 Here's the deal, the catalyst, the fuse on the mental bomb of a post-middle-aged Baby Boomer is a futuristic necessity in a grownups life. Get ready to cringe with sympathy: My debit card failed to work. It was on a less-than $15 purchase at a grocery store this morning.
My beloved CARD didn't pass muster in two attempts. In error (as it turns out), I blamed the card. The card's response was silent. The machine kept rejecting it and the pin number.
 This was a $15 pruchase -- I paid with cash. After all, as a longtime newspaper journalist, I am quite possibly one of the most wealthy individuals in the known universe. 
Perhaps I exaggerate. But I know that I do have enough socked away in a credit union to buy $15 worth of small ice cream cones and a couple of other items -- I already have ice cream. I shouldn't eat it, but I like to have it around for coping with emotional crises. You know, soothe with food -- it's my Fat Man's Motto. 
And Ice cream -- it's like television. Most of it I don't like but I still like to have it around the house.
So after a long drive on expensive gasoline, I got to the ol' credit union and a reliable staffer helped me test the card. Seemed to work. 
And this veteran of dealing with panicked people from the previous century declared, "It looks like it's the store's machine."
I'd driven to the CU alone -- I'd have taken Senior Office Cat Bob but, in a public situation, he is all-tough Texas lawyer, i.e., prone to speak harshly to strangers who aren't his clients. That's him curled up and sleeping in my Sharpspouse Martha's recliner.
I'd have taken Porche the Dear Dog with me, but she, too, has a harsh way of speaking her opinion -- usually involves a clean-up with mops, a disinfectant spray, paper bags and her smiling apologies for "letting myself go." 
I'm kidding about taking the dog and the cat -- neither of them travels without their attorneys.
In summation, the world is back in order, i.e., my card is working. I don't know about the grocery store's machine.
In my trapped-in-the-past Baby Boomer 20th century mind, I still think of the debit card as a "new trend" but I found a story on line that outlines the history of chipped cards from way back. It says there were cards in the 1970s but it wasn't until 2015 that U.S. banks added chips to their cards.
HERE'S THE LINK TO THE EXPLANATION....
And, now, I think I may go have a small cone with vanilla ice cream. I don't need anything more elaborate at this stage of the 21st Century. It is so good, even on a cold, cold day. Porche always wakes for ice cream...
May you Dear Readers and all your animals have a wonderful day, week, month and the remainder of the year and all the years from now on. 
I shall now excuse myself to stare in a mirror and ignore the siren call of the ice cream. 
Be kind to animals. Cope happily with the 21st Century.